It gets better
I just finished up a post about OWS before, but I’ve got other stuff on my mind that I think I need to write about as well. Today I ran into an acquaintance with her new baby at Target. I was really happy to see her; she looked great, and her son looked beautiful and healthy. She and I chatted for a bit (Ellie piped in quite a bit too, saying things like “Baby! Wake up!”), and I was struck by how relaxed and happy she seemed. I was also quite amazed to see her son sleeping in his carseat in the wagon at Target- something Ellie NEVER did.
Looking at her, I had this realization that this was the opposite of how I looked when Ellie was that age. And it hit me how awful I felt at that point of my life. I could barely get through the day, let alone go to Target with a baby and smile and have a conversation. I had no idea at the time just how much I was suffering and what bad shape I was in from my untreated post partum depression.
It’s funny how I can look at a mother now, and can almost immediately tell whether they’re in the same boat that I was .A little over a year ago, I was at a doctor’s appointment for Ellie, and I saw a mother in the waiting room with her newborn. She was swaying back and forth, rocking her baby, and had a look of desperation in her eyes that I knew all too well. She looked at me, and I saw her blink back tears. I walked over to her as we were heading into the exam room, and I said, “It gets easier. I promise it gets better.” And she looked back at me, and said “I hope so. I really do.” And I knew just where she was at, because I had been there myself.
When I see new moms who are struggling like I did, I want to put my arms around them and hug them and tell them that it’s going to be okay, that there’s no shame in getting help; that they will get through it, and be the mom that they hope to be, and they will feel like themselves again. When I see moms like this friend of mine in Target, who are in a very different place than I was, I want to go back in time and redo those months. I mourn the fact that I didn’t get to enjoy Ellie’s first few months because I was so broken inside. I cry for the anger and rage that I turned inward. I am regretful of the rage that I turned outward, and the help that I refused to take because I was too ashamed and scared.
I’m thankful that I’ve mostly made peace with this time of my life, because now I can enjoy my family, and I feel real joy in my life. Being a mother is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I think that most mothers feel that way, even if they had a rough beginning like I did. When I look at Ellie, all the pain of the first few months pales in comparison to the joy that I have with her. And that makes it all okay.
